


Atypical

by scarletsptember



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M, book porn, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletsptember/pseuds/scarletsptember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you know you let your eyes close just so when you find something interesting,” Stiles’ voice grew raspy as he continued to speak. “But when you truly find something fascinating your lips part slightly and your eyes widen as if the words have gripped you tight.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atypical

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having some trouble writing lately so I asked for prompts, any level of challenge and any pairing. Not what I was expecting but I totally went there. Thanks for that Crystal.

Flipping through tomes of books for hours on end was not something that Stiles actually enjoyed when he wasn’t getting anything out of it. Well, he was learning so he was accomplishing something. Maybe it was the thrill factor of it all. There wasn’t any life or death to this. It was just reading in Deaton’s office trying to pick up information that could help the pack in the future. A preemptive measure that Stiles had no idea why he was taking at the moment. 

“You sigh one more time you will wish you hadn’t.” Deaton mumbled from his desk. Stiles glanced up and the veterinarian hadn’t even bothered to look up at Stile when he spoke. Deaton’s dark eyes were still moving across the words on the crumbling pages in front of him and his gloved hands moved the pages gently as he read. 

That was the kind of book Stiles wanted to read when he wasn’t being rushed for answers. Something that had so much history behind it you had to take extra care to gain the information hidden inside its pages. People had poured their souls into the books Deaton was reviewing. They had spent countless hours handwriting their histories down and Deaton wouldn’t share. In fact the exact words Deaton had used were, “These are not to be toyed with Stiles. I can’t say that I trust you not to ruin them when you haven’t taken your medication in the correct doses.”

Stiles stood up from his seat and stretched out his hands above his head, the muscles in his stomach and back stretching and sighing in relief from the attention. He patted his stomach in contentment and noticed the way Deaton’s eyes lingered on his hands, where his shirt was still hiked up above his belt. With a blush, Stiles smoothed out his shirt before moving to stand behind Deaton trying to get a look at what the man had been so immersed in. He had been dying to catch the slightest glimpse of what was on those pages all afternoon. 

He rested a hand on Deaton’s shoulder and the other far enough away from the binding so not to damage the book or bother Deaton as he read over his shoulder. It was unconscious, something he would have done to anyone he was reading over. He rested his chin on Deaton’s shoulder and took in each and every one of the words.

Stiles could feel his heart beat heavily in his chest as he took in what Deaton had been reading the past two hours. He had been reading the hand written history of a werewolf pack that had lived in Scotland. Holy fuck this was a monumental find and so not fair of him not to share.

Any ways, how Deaton got his hands on a text like this, well Stiles wondered how many years he got from his Crossroads deal before he was heading to hell. 

“If you don’t stop doing that I will not be accountable for my actions.” Deaton mumbled underneath his breath and the muscles in his shoulders tensed up as if he didn’t really intend to say the words out loud. 

“Doing what?” Stiles asked still reading over Deaton’s shoulder. 

With smooth, precise movements Deaton shut the book and moved it to the relative safety of the side of the desk before answering Stiles without turning to face him. “Do you know what it feels like to have someone’s breath against your neck in time with their fingers interchanging from gripping your arm and caressing your skin?” 

Stiles made to move but Deaton’s gloved hand rested on top of his flat-palmed hand still resting on the desk top. The breath was caught in Stiles’ lungs as he waited for Deaton to make a move. 

Deaton let out a soft breath of words. “It is the most tempting of sensations. One I even find difficult to overlook.”

Stiles felt a flush run from his face to his chest and slowly trickling to his navel like a spark. He could feel Deaton shifting and turning against his chest and he waited until he was eye to eye with him. Stiles stared into the blown pupils, waiting for something, anything to happen.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed bent over, watching Deaton and waiting before he moved to nudge at the gloves on Deaton’s hands with a lone fingertip. Stiles let the tip of his fingertip brush lightly against the sensitive skin of Deaton’s wrist before slowly removing the glove from the veterinarian’s hand. Stiles outlined the light scars on Deaton’s hand with blunt nails, seeing the way his touch caused Deaton’s breath to catch and his eyes dilate with arousal.

“This is one thing you need to be absolutely sure of,” Deaton watched for any of Stiles’ nervous ticks and tells but found none. He moved his hand allowing Stiles to remove his other glove letting it rest on the desktop. 

Stiles lifted his hand brushing a finger from just behind Deaton’s ear to his chin, marveling in the way just a simple touch could make a man’s chest lurch with want. He watched as Deaton tilted his head back, submitting completely to Stiles’ every decision.

“Do you know you let your eyes close just so when you find something interesting,” Stiles’ voice grew raspy as he continued to speak. “But when you truly find something fascinating your lips part slightly and your eyes widen as if the words have gripped you tight.” 

“Are you sure?” Deaton wrapped his fingers around Stiles’ wrists, his gripe tightened with anticipation. 

Stiles’ lips curled into a soft grin before he let his mouth dip sinfully close to Deaton’s. Their breaths mingling; hot, moist, all too much at once. Stiles moistened his lips, the tip of his tongue sliding against Deaton’s lips, just barely as he echoed Deaton’s early question. “Are you sure?”

Deaton surged up, his mouth pressing hot and open against Stiles’. His hands moved to the nape of Stiles’ neck, urging him closer and deeper. Stiles let out a broken whimper at the taste of Deaton on his lips. He moved so his hips lined with Deaton’s as he sat with his knees on either side of Deaton’s thighs. 

Stiles dragged his nails from the base of Deaton’s skull to the collar of his shirt, reveling in the full body tremble the move elicited. He let his hips roll once and then twice, a heavy pressure against Deaton. 

Stiles pulled away just long enough to murmur, “You have no idea what you do to me when you’re like this.”

Deaton smirked against Stiles’ lips and froze when the bell chimed signaling a patient’s arrival. He let his forehead rest against Stiles. Their breaths heavy and loud as they tried to collect themselves. Stiles thumbed at the corner of Deaton’s lips softly before moving to stand. He watched as the vet collected himself and straightened his shirt and pants out with a soft smile on his face. 

Just before Deaton was about to leave his office Stiles reached out grabbing his wrist, “I’ll never be able to look at a book like that without thinking of this.”

Deaton’s eyes sparkled as he brushed at his shirt one last time opening the door, “See that you do.”


End file.
